


The Fundamentals of Pain

by thefuckistevvs



Series: The Junker's Guide to the Outback [11]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Basically its about torture so its going to be kind of pretty violent so......., Blood, Bone Breaking, Burning, Drugs, Electrocution, Established Relationship, Kidnapping, M/M, Torture, like lots of torture, teeth pulling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefuckistevvs/pseuds/thefuckistevvs
Summary: He was screaming. When had he started screaming? He couldn't move. No matter how much he tried he couldn't move.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A Heist goes wrong, and Junkrat has to pay for it.
> 
> I should have written a new chapter of the other fic but... this won. Whoops!!!  
> There are already a LOT of fic of Rat being captured, being tortured and stuff, but I kind of wanted to do my own take on it, right? So even if it is kind of a tired topic here is my take on it! It kind of gets graphic and violent, heh. but hey, it wouldn't be torture fic if it wasn't for that, huh? Rat can take it, I'm sure!  
> SO anyways, I had a lot of fun writing this (what a weirdo heh), I hope you like it too!!!!! 
> 
> Also obligatory HAPPY "TRACER IS CANON GAY" week. it honestly made my day, and my entire month. Woo canon queer characters!!
> 
> SHOT OUT TO MY BFF AND BETA READER NAMI. bless you, you nerd.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!!

The burning smell of chemicals was the first thing he identified. That, and the sharp pain in his extremities. Also, the throbbing pain in his head. His entire body was hurting, he realized. 

Junkrat grunted and wiggled, but his movement was cut short by the restraints on his limbs. 

His eyes shot open, head twisting around as he kept pulling his arms. They were above his head, each wrist pinned with a shackle, holding him down tight. He could barely move, no matter how much he pulled at them. Junkrat attempted to move his legs but met the same problem- his left heel was tied up with another shackle. His peg leg had been taken off, but chains tied him up against whatever surface he was lying on top of. Chains looped on his chest, hips, and upper thighs. He was trapped, tied down like an animal.   
Junkrat sucked air between his teeth, attempting to thrash and yank off his restraints, but was unsuccessful. He growled, his thrashing becoming more frantic, his skin beginning to redden where the chain rubbed it. He didn't care. He continued to wiggle until his skin went raw... along with his throat. He was screaming. When had he started screaming? He couldn't move. No matter how much he tried he couldn't _move_. 

What happened? He tried to remember. His memory was shit, but surely if he focused enough he could remember what happened. He tried his hardest, still attempting to pull at the restraints. His brow furrowed, head pulsing in pain while he pulled. What _happened_? 

 

A heist. They were doing a heist, him and Roadhog. Junkrat recalled being very excited about it, but couldn't remember what exactly they were stealing. Money, probably. 

Yes, yes- it was money, sort of. They’d raided a bank and destroyed most of the contents inside, but that bank was special- it belonged to the most powerful suits in Sydney. They kept all their money there; more money than they even knew what to do with, and this made Junkrat _furious_. People were dying in the Outback, starved and sick, while these men in Sydney literally had so much money they had to keep it in a separate building. Who did they think they were? It was sickening. 

The smell of those stacks of money burning into ashes gave him goosebumps. 

They didn't even grab anything, just set it ablaze and ran out of there. Roadhog had hidden his chopper away from the city, in the outskirts. They would have to steal a vehicle. Roadhog normally was the one that led the getaway, but this time he noticed he had no more grenades. Damn. 

"I'll drive, you'll keep 'em away, Hog!" 

Roadhog grunted in agreement. They dashed towards the cars parked around the area in the streets, bullets already ricocheting off the metal. Junkrat spotted a sturdy looking jeep that had no roof on it, the only one sturdy enough to hold Roadhog's weight. That would do. 

"Over there!" Junkrat yelled as they made their way to the jeep. Roadhog continued to shoot at their attackers and Junkrat noticed they didn't look like the normal cops- these ones had fancy suits on them and looked far more professional than the cops he had seen before. Weird. 

Junkrat broke through the window of the car with his prosthetic, diving into the car while its alarms blared. The sounds of bullets and mayhem drowned as Junkrat shoved himself into the underside of the dashboard, propping open the plastic to get to the wires. He bit his lip, carefully peeling the cables. He’d done this before, and it wasn’t long before he had the car running and the alarms dying. 

"Bingo!" Junkrat laughed, climbing into the seat. "Get on! Let's disappear!" 

Roadhog hopped into the jeep, creaking under his weight. Junkrat hit the gas, laughing madly as they made their getaway. Roadhog laughed loud and deep too, shooting at the black cars that were following them. 

"These ain't cops are they?!" Junkrat yelled out, voice barely audible due to the bullets. "Who are them?!" 

"Keep driving!" Roadhog shouted. Junkrat grumbled, but kept on, already nearing the outskirts of the town. More and more cars surrounded them, black cars with men in black suits shooting at them. Junkrat ignored it, car swerving and slippery on the road. 

"Watch out!" Roadhog yelled out, gripping on the back of Junkrat's seat tightly. 

"I'm on it!" Junkrat bit his lip, attempting to get out of the city without too many bullet wounds. 

"Oof!" 

He heard Roadhog's voice made a wet, pained sound. Junkrat whipped his head around, catching a glimpse of Roadhog cradling his right shoulder. Roadhog was covered on his own blood, bullet wounds already lodged in his flesh. 

"Roadhog!" Junkrat screamed. 

The man turned to stare at him, left hand reaching at Junkrat. 

"Jamison-" 

 

One of the black cars crashed against the driver’s side. Junkrat felt his entire body rattle. Did he explode? He felt like he exploded.   
His body twisted around, the crunch of the metals resonating in his ears. Next thing he remembered, he was lying on the pavement, chest against the road. He gasped for air, feet approached him and- 

 

Junkrat gasped as he remembered everything, body thrashing painfully. His eyes traveled to his torso, examining it. He was full of bruises and small cuts, but considering he had been thrown into the air after being T-boned, he’d gotten off easy. 

He stopped thrashing, eyes going wide as a terrifying thought crossed his mind. Where was Roadhog?   
He examined the room. There were cameras that he could see, but it was a small empty room, completely white. There was no Roadhog in sight, or no one else, for that matter.   
His breathing went wild, heart pounding hard against his chest. He arched his back, attempting to get up from the metal slab he was tied to, but the chain just hurt his skin. He couldn't move, no matter how much he tried. 

Junkrat eventually stopped, chest rising up and down in a panic. 

"Oh, you're awake." 

Junkrat turned his head around frantically, lifting it as much as he could, neck straining. He saw the well-dressed figure standing in the door frame, well groomed and old. A suit. Junkrat snarled. 

"Well, what do we got here?" The suit approached him, his fancy shoes making an elegant _clack_ on the tile. Junkrat stared at him as he approached, face warped into a snarl. 

The man looked sharp, with a suit tailored specifically for him. His hair was greying and slicked back into his skull, wrinkles decorating his sharp face. He looked sharp all over. The Suit was older than Junkrat, but maybe not as old as Roadhog? Who knew; he was shit at figuring ages out.   
Junkrat eyes were focused on the man, but he saw at the corner of his eyes how more people entered the room. They were dressed like the ones that chased them back in the city. 

"If it isn't the most wanted man in Australia." The suit reached Junkrat's right side, and grinned down at him. Junkrat continued to glare at him, teeth showing. "Jamison Fawkes, isn't it?" 

"Who's askin?" Junkrat’s voice came out as a snarl. 

"Me. I'm asking." The man smiled, but Junkrat could tell by his voice that he was on the verge of breaking down in rage. "Do you know who I am?" 

"A piece of shit suit with way too much money in yer hands," Junkrat said almost immediately. The suit smile crooked, his eyebrows furrowing on his forehead. "Roight?" 

"I-" The suit took a deep breath, fidgeting with his tie and closing his eyes. He didn't seem like a calm man, and Junkrat was going to have oh-so-much fun pissing him off. "I am the owner of the bank you and your lard-ass friend ble-" 

Junkrat's spit landed straight on the suit's face, smearing on his eyes, nose and mouth. The suit was shocked for several seconds, bringing a hand to his face and wiping the thick spit off it. He looked down at Junkrat in shock, who just stared back at him with teeth bared, body leaning as much as he could towards him. 

" _Don't_ ," he growled, "fucking CALL him that, you pig!" 

The suit stared, then took one of the pocket squares in his chest pocket, unfolding it and wiping the rest of the spit off. His face burned red with anger and Junkrat felt oh-so-much satisfaction at that. The man stared at him, and snapped his fingers.   
On cue, one of the sharp dressed man approached him. He was holding a normal hammer, a hammer which he slammed right beneath Junkrat’s sternum. 

Junkrat choked, body lurching forward as he sputtered. Not only did it hurt like fuck, but Junkrat couldn't breathe. He gasped for air but it felt like his lungs were burning, no oxygen reaching them.   
The suit simply stared down at him, before throwing the dirty cloth on Junkrat's body. Junkrat kept gasping for air, jaw clenching while he attempted to breathe. 

"Feisty, aren't you? I heard as much of you and your kind." 

_Kind? Kindly_ fuck off, Junkrat thought. He would have said as much, but was too busy not choking. 

"I lost millions of dollars in that little stunt you pulled. Normally, I would have killed you for that. Luckily for you, you have something that can replace the millions I lost." 

Junkrat had finally calmed down, his chest burning from the hammer. 

"I'm just a Junker, mate," Junkrat giggled harshly. _Damn_ his chest hurt. He knew he wasn't going to fool the suit, but he liked pissing him off. "I ain't got nothin' but the clothes on me back." 

"You cannot fool me. I know why you're being hunted down. You found something deep in the Omnium, right?" He leaned close to Junkrat. Junkrat surged forward, snapping his teeth at the suit. The suit managed to reel back, just avoiding Junkrat biting his nose off. He took a second to recover, then continued. 

"Now, if you could only tell me where your treasure is, I may let you leave." 

Junkrat hollered laughter, body spasming even though it hurt. The suit stared at him in confusion. 

"Mate," he giggled. "Ya think ya scare me? Ya think this is tha' first time I've been threatened? Get over yerself, mate." 

" _Where is your treasure?_ " His voice spilled venom. 

"Wouldn't ya like to know." 

"Okay." The man snapped his fingers once more. 

The hammer slammed against Junkrat’s left hand. He hissed in pain, a whimper escaping his mouth. His fingers were definitely broken, but eh. Those could be fixed. No big deal. 

"R-really?" he gasped, sweat rolling down his forehead. "I've gotten worse injuries from a blind kangaroo, mate." 

"I am a reasonable man." The suit ignored Junkrat, preferring to stare at his manicured nails. "I do not ask for much. Just the location of your treasure. Then, I'll forget about all the money you literally burnt to the ground." 

Junkrat laughed weakly, his fingers burning. It felt like they were grinding at each other, hot and unbearable. But he could take it. "Like I ain't heard that one before, eh?" 

The suit sighed. The hammer slammed at him again, but this time at his ankle. It broke his ankle immediately, and he screamed. The pain on his wrist was nothing compared to the fresh one in his ankle- it felt as if someone had torn it apart from the inside. He didn't notice he was thrashing until he felt the chains digging and cutting at his skin. 

"Fucking- fucking piss wanker!" Junkrat's body felt so tired, adrenaline fading from his system. "I'll kill- I'll kill ya. Roadhog- Hog will fuckin' kill ya. He- he'll-" 

"Roadhog? Oh- you mean your partner, huh?" The suit smiled. Junkrat would have spat on him again, but he felt out of breath. "What is he to you?" His grin widened from ear to ear, perfectly white and straight teeth glistening on the light. 

Junkrat hissed loudly, a terrible feeling creeping up his throat. 

"He'll kill ya. He- He-" 

"Really? How interesting. But, let's talk about other matters, shall we? Such as your treasure." 

Junkrat remained silent, licking his lips and awaiting for the next wave of torture. 

"I see." The suit made a motion with his fingers. Someone came through the door, pushing a small metal table with wheels on the bottom. It contained what he thought was a car battery, with cables poking from it. "Let's try another approach, shall we?" 

The person that pulled the table had rubber gloves on her hands, Junkrat noticed. He took a deep breath before the jumper cables pinched into his skin. 

 

It hurt, it hurt so much. It felt like his insides were burning, his brain exploding in pain. His body tensed and flailed as much as it could. Junkrat didn't realize he’d been screaming until his throat burned, his insides hot. His skin felt excruciatingly hot, and he swore several minutes passed before the cables unclamped from his body. 

He felt his body burning. He felt terrible, like his insides were about to burst any moment. It felt like the time he accidentally touched an electrified fence, but one hundred times worse. 

"The treasure, Mr. Fawkes." The suit crunched up his nose. 

"T-t-" His teeth clattered. Junkrat swallowed, hard. "Tha-tha' treasure, I-I-it-" 

The suit leaned close, eyes wide, with the corners of his lips tilted into a smile. 

"Tha re-r-real treasure, it-it’s... it’s..." Junkrat whimpered, staring right into the suit’s eyes. "Tha f-friends we m-made a-along tha w-w-way." 

Without warning the jumper cables jabbed into his skin once more, but this time the shock felt far more intense than before. His muscles went completely stiff, and he thought he was going to turn into ash, like in those cartoons they sometimes watched in the shitty motels. Junkrat could smell his own skin charring and burning, the spot where the jumper cables clamped unto him smelling like roasted gecko. This time was longer than before, he knew it- far more minutes passed before the damn jumper cables separated from his charred skin.   
Junkrat breathed shallow, on the brink of passing out. He was barely clinging into consciousness, and it felt like hell. All he could think about was: where was Roadhog? Did the suit know anything about him? 

"W-where's-" he could barely speak, his heart beating too hard against his chest. "Roadhog- wh-what-" 

"We've captured your friend, too." The suit's canines were sharp, pointy. Reminded Junkrat of a starved dingo. His eyes narrowed, staring down at Junkrat dangerously. "Give us the location of the treasure, or he dies." 

Junkrat's mind was foggy, his thoughts scrambled more than normal. He said that Roadhog had been captured. Roadhog, captured? Yeah, sure. As if. He wasn't the one man apocalypse for nothing. Junkrat laughed weakly, shoulders sagging. 

"Ya roight. Ya sure do." 

"His death will be on you." 

"Go to town," Junkrat laughed. It hurt something inside of him to even say those words. It was to piss the suit off, but boy did it make his insides ache. 

"That's interesting. I thought you would be more interested in whatever happened to your partner." 

Junkrat just smiled coyly at him, without answering. 

"So you don't care if we kill him?" 

"I would be surprised if ya manage to. Maybe tell me ya secrets?" 

"Why don't you tell me yours first?" 

"Okay, fine." He rolled his shoulders, his sore muscles screaming in protest. So many parts of his body hurt, it all blended in one miserable sensation. "Gecko meat tastes better if ya sprinkle it with gunpowder." 

That earned him a hammer into his stomach. It hurt and knocked the air right out of him, but it felt better than being electrocuted. Well, not as bad anyways. 

"Perhaps it is better to leave Mr. Fawkes to think about his situation for a while." 

Junkrat saw the lady that had electrocuted him grab a syringe with a clear liquid inside. She jabbed it against his arm, the liquid felt like it burned inside of his veins as it traveled through his bloodstream. 

"Fuck! Get off me!" his wrist burned as he attempted to get away from it, but soon enough the syringe was depleted in his bloodstream. "Tha fuck ya did to me?!" 

"Just something to keep you on edge," the suit smiled wide. Junkrat wanted to rip off his lips right off his face. "We wouldn't want you to get too distracted, huh?" 

The suit's voice felt too far away, as if he was underwater. Junkrat felt his temperature rise, heart beating so hard he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. His eyes went wide, skin tingling and with the urge to move. He saw the suit and his associate leaving the room as he started to writhe, unable to move. His brain felt like jelly, and Junkrat felt his body spasm so much he wondered if he was having a seizure. He’d never had one, though, so he couldn't say.   
He remembered witnessing a Junker having a seizure, his entire body spamming and jerking, wild and gross. That's how he felt, his broken limbs screaming from how much he was moving them. Everything was going too fast in his head, eyes burning and limbs aching. He wanted to get up, move, run, do _anything_ but he just couldn’t, bounds tight against him. He whimpered, gasping for breath feeling like his lungs were about to collapse. 

He sucked in a breath between his teeth, howling in desperation. His muscles felt like they were melting, bones vibrating and turning into dust. He needed to _move_. 

Junkrat's body was a furnace, sweat rolling down his face and chest, arms going numb from being pinned above his head. It felt like when he got those fevers back when he lost his limbs, disgusting and wrong. And just like back then he tried to sleep them off, tried to fall unconscious, but his brain was too aware, too awake. The white walls and ceiling were a blur, smears on his vision as his eyes moved far too fast. His mind felt like it was going far too fast and the world way too slow.   
His torture went on for what he felt were days, his body stiff and damp from all the sweat. It was an eternity before his body started calming down, before his poor brain could catch a break. The pain returned to his limbs, but it felt better than being so hyper aware and unable to move. His body sagged and he breathed out, tired. 

God, he was so tired. Maybe he could get some sleep before- 

 

He snarled in frustration when the door opened once more, the familiar Suit stepping inside the room. 

"Good afternoon. I hope you enjoyed your break." 

Junkrat wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he was far too tired. He just did a "Tsk tsk" sound with his mouth, and the suit frowned. 

"Not ready to talk yet, it seems?" Junkrat noticed the men in black positioning themselves next to his head, doing something with the chains. They of course weren't going to release him, but he felt far too exhausted to try to figure out just what they were doing. The suit kept him distracted, his disgusting smile focused at him. 

"There is one easy way to get out of this, you know." 

"Bite me," Junkrat said, with a weak chuckle. 

The suit smiled, as if he was awaiting for that reply. 

"Oh, I'll enjoy this." He shook his head. 

In one swift motion the chains looping around Junkrat’s body were pulled back, the shackle tying his broken ankle snapped open. Before Junkrat could react and twist his body around the chains tying his arms were pulled, yanking him up and above the ground. The surface he was lying on top of retracted, hiding beneath the floor while the chains continued to pull Junkrat up- well, at least one of them. The men yanked his prosthetic arm with the other chain, pulling it off his stump with a sharp pain.   
His entire weight was being held by his broken left wrist. Junkrat screamed rawly at the pain, snapping wide awake as he felt the bones inside of his wrist scrape each other. He attempted to ease the weight off by supporting himself with his foot. It was then when he realized it was broken, as well. 

He screamed again, tears spilling from his eyes and traveling down his dirty cheeks. The suit was in front of him, that smile not even flickering. Junkrat used every ounce of strength left in his body to lurch at him. The chains had him held up but he swung his body, foot flying in the air, attempting to wrap it around the suit to bring him forward, his teeth bared and ready to rip off the suit's flesh. 

The suit just barely managed to avoid Junkrat, his face twisting in surprise. It gave Junkrat just a bit of satisfaction. The people holding the chain to his wrist pulled at it hard, jerking Junkrat back until he felt something pop. 

Once again he screamed, his arm dislocating from his socket. The pain made him dizzy, his head felt like it had been hit with a mallet. His body slumped forward, barely able to hold his head up. His wrist was burning up but his ankle was broken- no matter how he tried to position himself it was excruciatingly painful. Junkrat's world was nothing but pain. 

"My patience is running very thin, Jamison Fawkes.” He could barely see the suit, his vision too blurry and smudged at the edges, but Junkrat could spot the desperation in his face. "Where's the treasure? What's it location?" 

"Up yer arse." He might feel like shit and on the verge of passing out, but Junkrat wasn't going to stop fighting. His lips twitched, attempting to smile, but he was so tired. 

"What a pity. What would Roadhog think?" 

Junkrat lurched forward, ignoring the terrible pain in his limbs. He snarled, jaw chomping like an animal. Drops of saliva reached the suit's face, and even though he tried to hide it, Junkrat could feel he was terrified. He could _smell_ it on him. 

"Don't ya DARE say his fuckin' name!" He continued to thrash, wriggling, pain making his muscles feel like liquid. "He'll- he'll fuckin' kill ya, he'll fuckin-" 

"He's dead, you know." 

Junkrat narrowed his eyes, face burning up and stomach twisting. 

"Like hell he is," he snarled, the edges of his vision going red. 

"I warned you that we captured him." His nostrils flared with each breath, the suit attempting to contain his composure as he stood in front of Junkrat. "I warned you we would kill him if you didn't give us the location of the treasure." 

White noise flooded Junkrat’s head. His gaze unfocused. His lungs, ribs, stomach- every single one of his organs burned, hot, searing. His blood boiled, broken fingers curling into a bloody broken and purple fist. He felt gunk rising from his stomach into his throat, and he could feel it in his mouth. He could feel the hot white anger spilling from his lips. 

"Ya lyin'." It was the only thing he could muster up, ribs shaking. 

The suit smiled. Junkrat wanted to rip off his head off his body. 

"He wasn't such a good bodyguard, right? Letting himself and his charge be captured-" 

In a fit of adrenaline Junkrat kicked hard, his limp foot managing to catch the suit's jaw. It was agony, but he managed to knock the suit down, to slam his back against the floor. The suit snarled in anger, cradling his jaw with one hand and snapping his fingers with the other. 

They were all over him, holding Junkrat still. A hand opened his mouth wide. Junkrat attempted to chomp down on it, but more and more hands pried his jaw open, wide enough to rip the edges of his lips. He cried out in frustration as they dragged him down with his broken hand still pressing painfully against its shackle. Tears spilled from his eyes, drool pooling underneath his tongue as the hands pried open. He felt something metallic and cold get shoved inside. Junkrat tried his hardest to get away, but too many people were holding him down, hands holding his head still as the pliers dug inside his mouth. 

He felt a sharp pain in his mouth, the taste of blood drowning his tongue. The blood spilled out from his jaw rolling down to his throat. He clawed, attempting to escape, howling like a wounded animal. The plier went for another tooth, grabbing at it and pulling hard. He screamed as more blood escaped his mouth, gums raw and painful.   
He screamed for the fiftieth time today, the warm blood drowning his cries. At some point all the hands let him go, and he was once again alone in the room. His chin touched his chest, looking down at the pool of blood on the pristine white floor. His eyelids were heavy, and his mind made no sense. 

 

Roadhog was dead? Roadhog couldn't be dead. But what if he was dead? 

 

Blood kept pooling at his mouth along with drool, thick ropes of it dropping onto the floor.   
Maybe it was his fault Roadhog died. The suit had killed him because he didn't give them the location of the treasure. He had trusted Roadhog was okay, but what if he _wasn't_? What if Junkrat was responsible for his death?   
Now he began to weep softly, unsure of why exactly. Maybe it was because his wrist was fucked up and hurt more than it had ever hurt, maybe it was because of his raw gums. Maybe it was the electric shocks he received before. Maybe it was his fucked up ankle. 

 

Maybe it was because Roadhog was dead. 

 

Roadhog was dead. He had wasted Roadhog's life just because of a stupid treasure. Roadhog had saved him so many times and this is how he paid him? _Killing_ him? His body was numb, as was his brain. He couldn't think straight, thoughts and emotions piling up in his head and chest. It all hurt so much, in so many ways. 

He hadn't realized he’d passed out until he was woken up with a metal bat striking him on the knee. 

Junkrat wailed in pain, his leg hanging limply from his body. 

"Wake up, Mr. Fawkes." The suit was the one holding the bat, this time. Junkrat noticed that the suit was accompanied by only two other men, rather than the many that had been with him before. "We aren't done with you." 

"Oh, really?" Junkrat smiled, his knee screaming. "I can do this all day, mate." 

"That's what I expected you to say, Mr. Fawkes." He took a puff of the cigarette on his lips. "I do admit, I am enjoying this." 

"What, ya got nothin' else to do, mate?" Junkrat giggled, head dizzy and with vertigo. He felt like when he got drunk, but not the good way. "Ya jerkin' off tha' this, eh? Want to bust the poor cripple? Aha!" His jaw hurt and so did the inside of his mouth. Most of the blood had dried up by this point, but if he opened his mouth too wide he knew it would bleed again. 

"My, confident aren't you? Even after the death of your bodyguard?" 

Junkrat flinched. He wanted to cry, but refused to do so in their presence. The suit wouldn't win. He wouldn’t... Junkrat wanted to give a witty reply, to say something, _anything_ , but his throat went dry. He made a weird choked sound and he sounded oh so pathetic. 

"Ah, so I wasn't wrong? Perhaps there is more than just a professional companionship?" 

"Just like yer relationship with yer righty palm, bud." 

"Oh, I'll enjoy doing this," the suit slurred. 

"Hope ya got a camera, mate. Why don't ye take some pictures, huh?" 

His laughter was cut short by the chain loosening. Junkrat crumpled on the floor, his limbs searing in pain. He couldn't help but let out a muffled scream. Before he could do anything one of the men wrapped a plastic bag on his face, pulling back. Junkrat attempted to claw at the man asphyxiating him, but his dislocated arm hung limply against his side. His knee was busted and so was his ankle, unable to move apart from frantic wiggling. He was forced to stand, his weight on his messed up leg.   
Junkrat attempted to scream in pain but it was drowned by the plastic bag. He couldn't see nothing through it, his lungs burning up at the lack of oxygen. He felt the butt of the cigarette press against the skin in his torso. He thrashed as he felt his skin scorching up from where the cigarette was burning, but the bag was his entire world. Just when he thought he was going to die, the bag was lifted just momentarily, only to start asphyxiating him once more. 

His ears were ringing, the cigarettes butts replaced by the bat once again as it slammed against his torso, legs-Junkrat begged to be hit in the head, to pass out, _anything_ , to just _stop it_. His lungs were going to burst, and he just wanted it all to stop, he just wanted everything to stop. To stop, to let him die, just let him die- 

 

He heard a crash somewhere near, but at first Junkrat thought it was his brain frying as he died. The bag around his head went slightly loose and Junkrat drew a deep breath. He heard massive footsteps approaching along with the sounds of alarms going off. The sound was loud in his head, but Junkrat couldn't process what it meant.   
He was let go, and he instantly slammed against the ground. He heard the suit panic, dropping the metal bat to the floor. Junkrat tried to move, to get the plastic bag off his head, but it was too much- everything hurt too much. Junkrat settled for taking a deep breath, his pained lungs welcoming the fresh air. 

There was a loud crash that made his insides rumble, and whatever was causing so much noise had reached them. He heard bullets, the too familiar sound of a scrap gun going off and the deep belly laugh he so adored. 

Roadhog. Junkrat weakly smiled to no one in particular, his face still obscured by the plastic bag. 

 

There were wet sounds, screams that stopped with the sound of cracks and pops and the splash of something on the ground. Junkrat felt something warm splatter against him, but he didn't care. The alarms were still blaring when he heard the massive footsteps approaching him, a grunt following as his rescuer crouched down.   
The bag was taken off his head, and Junkrat blinked a couple of times before his vision adjusted to the light. 

Roadhog stared at him, his lenses gazing right at his soul. Junkrat smiled weakly, attempted to lift his hand to pet at the mask, but he couldn't feel his arm anymore. He thought for a moment it had been chopped off, but he didn't care. It sagged uncomfortably, and Roadhog seemed to notice that. He grunted, pained, one hand stroking Junkrat's cheek softly while the other popped his arm back in place. 

Junkrat whimpered, tears falling from his eyes. Roadhog petted him apologetically, and Junkrat just kept smiling. He couldn't see his eyes, but Junkrat knew Roadhog was staring at all the caked blood on his jaw, at all the blood and black spots on his body. The way his left wrist sat, limp, bloated, and purple. The way his knee and ankle were busted. Roadhog sighed, his massive hand brushing at Junkrat's hair. 

Junkrat eyes shot up when he heard a familiar whimper. Roadhog stood up immediately, hook in hand. 

The suit was crawling on the floor, his back against the corner of the room. Roadhog understood. He walked towards the man, as the suit continued to press his back against the walls.   
He was terrified. Good. 

Junkrat saw how Roadhog wrapped the man's head in his palm, lifting the man up above the ground. The suit wailed in horror, but Roadhog just twisted his fingers in one swift motion, snapping his head so far it faced backwards.   
He let the dead body fall on the floor and Junkrat didn't notice he was laughing. It hurt, but fuck that, it was worth it. 

Roadhog made his way to Junkrat once again, kneeling. His hands very carefully caressed him apologetically. 

"Thought you died,” Junkrat muttered. 

Roadhog huffed. 

"Came as fast as I could," he said, in an attempt at an apology. Junkrat accepted it. 

"Ya weren't captured?" 

"No. Only you." Roadhog huffed, tired. He tucked one of Junkrat's sweaty hair strands behind his ear. "My fault. Should've protected you. It's my job." 

"Ya’re shit at yer job." He said it with a laugh, but Roadhog just shifted uncomfortably. Junkrat’s eyes traveled to the hole that was the door of the room, worried more guards would come. 

"Killed 'em all," Roadhog said, reading his intentions. He very gently patted Junkrat's hip. "Let's go." 

"Can't walk," Junkrat giggled as he pointed to his foot with his chin. Roadhog rumbled, and carefully wrapped Junkrat in his hands, lifting him up with massive palms and cradling him against his chest. Junkrat hissed a little, his muscles sore and painful. He pressed his cheek against Roadhog's soft chest, attempting to calm himself down. Roadhog huffed, very softly. 

"Sorry," Roadhog almost whispered, but Junkrat just nodded, still pressed against his soft flesh. 

"It's ok, big guy." 

The alarms kept blaring, but it didn't matter. He closed his hands and let Roadhog carry him away from danger. It was as if nothing had even happened, safe in Roadhog's arms. Roadhog kept him close, carefully cradling him as they made their way out of the building.   
The cool air felt so good on his heated up skin. He opened his eyes and saw that it was night time. He didn't recognize where they were, but it was away from Sydney- or at least he thought so. He could only see abandoned and destroyed buildings around him- probably the outskirts of Sydney. God, he didn't care, he just wanted out of it.   
He felt relief wash him when he noticed Roadhog's bike. He didn't know why, but it cemented the fact that he was, in fact, alive and being rescued. 

"How long?" Junkrat whispered against Roadhog's chest. His body felt so tired, all the exhaustion finally catching up to him. Roadhog's body heat made him feel better, safe- at home. "How long was... captured?" 

"A day." 

"A _day_?" Junkrat asked. God, had it seriously been a day? It felt like at least a week to Junkrat. Stupid suit. At least he was dead now. 

"Should've been less. Took me a while to find this place. Well hidden." 

Junkrat took a deep breath. "Cunt." 

Roadhog laughed softly. Junkrat thought that he was going to dump him on the sidecar. Instead, Roadhog lowered himself down on the bike, carefully cradling Junkrat close to him. Junkrat, barely awake, felt how Roadhog gently tucked his limp arm on his, and he let his head loll back. Roadhog tilted it carefully so his neck didn't strain. 

"Me limbs," Junkrat whispered as if he suddenly remembered they had taken his prosthetics. 

"I'll help you build new ones." Roadhog adjusted himself on the bike, one hand cradling Junkrat's battered body and the other holding the handle of his bike. "We stole the blueprints, remember?" 

"Oh, right," Junkrat said softly, giggling. 

Roadhog turned on his bike, hitting the gas and leaving that wretched place. Junkrat sighed, the wind roared on his ears and it soothed him. He pressed closer against Roadhog. Roadhog squeezed him in acknowledgement. 

"Didn't tell 'em about the treasure," Junkrat whispered. Roadhog grunted. "But- they said they killed ya, cus I didn't tell 'em-" 

"Good," Roadhog replied. 

"I thought ya died, cus I didn't-" 

"Never disclose it. Ever." 

"But, what if they kill ya?" 

Roadhog pushed the accelerator, the bike surging forward and leaving a trail of dust behind. 

"Don't ever say it, Jamison. Understand? Even if they threaten me- never say it." 

Junkrat sighed softly, his eyelids heavy. 

"Do you understand, Jamie? I'll always rescue you. I'll always get you out of there. Do you understand?" 

Jamie closed his eyes, the warmth of Roadhog's body intoxicating. "Yes." 

Roadhog patted him with his fingers, letting Jamie fall asleep on his arms as he drove to one of their safe houses. 

"Good boy."

**Author's Note:**

> Junkrat can canonically drive but i choose to believe half the time he just totals the vehicle.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it!!!  
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